to say nothing of the
torrid sun, would perhaps have nipped his race in the bud if he had not
made haste to clothe himself with the shelter of a house. Adam and Eve,
according to the fable, wore the bower before other clothes. Man wanted
a home, a place of warmth, or comfort, first of warmth, then the warmth
of the affections.

We may imagine a time when, in the infancy of the human race, some
enterprising mortal crept into a hollow in a rock for shelter. Every
child begins the world again, to some extent, and loves to stay
outdoors, even in wet and cold. It plays house, as well as horse, having
an instinct for it. Who does not remember the interest with which, when
young, he looked at shelving rocks, or any approach to a cave? It was
the natural yearning of that portion, any portion of our most primitive
ancestor which still survived in us. From the cave we have advanced to
roofs of palm leaves, of bark and boughs, of linen woven and stretched,
of grass and straw, of boards and shingles, of stones and tiles. At
last, we know not what it is to live in the open air, and our lives are
domestic in more senses than we think. From the hearth the field is a
great distance. It would be well, perhaps, if we were to spend more of
our days and nights without any obstruction between us and the celestial
bodies, if the poet did not speak so much from under a roof, or the
saint dwell there so long. Birds do not sing in caves, nor do doves
cherish their innocence in dovecots.

However, if one designs to construct a dwelling-house, it behooves him
to exercise a little Yankee shrewdness, lest after all he find himself
in a workhouse, a labyrinth without a clue, a museum, an almshouse, a
prison, or a splendid mausoleum instead. Consider first how slight a
shelter is absolutely necessary. I have seen Penobscot Indians, in this
town, living in tents of thin cotton cloth, while the snow was nearly a
foot deep around them, and I thought that they would be glad to have
it deeper to keep out the wind. Formerly, when how to get my living
honestly, with freedom left for my proper pursuits, was a question
which vexed me even more than it does now, for unfortunately I am become
somewhat callous, I used to see a large box by the railroad, six feet
long by three wide, in which the laborers locked up their tools at
night; and it suggested to me that every man who was hard pushed might
get such a one for a dollar, and, having bored a few auger holes